Diminuendo
by Little Miss Sorrow
Summary: There are good days and there are bad days, and then there are days when you end up on the couch. Not angst but not really romcane, more like a reality check, Mac and Stella.


_Disclaimer: per usual this do not belong to me, the song blongs to the author and CSI:NY belongs to CBS. Thnx Cae Prince for beating this! Du är en pärla!_

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**Diminuendo**  
_by: Little Miss Sorrow_

When you're sleeping on the couch  
And love becomes sacrificing  
Then I'm not sure it's going to be  
You and me, anymore

_Trying to Recall (Marie Lindberg) _

He lay staring at the ceiling; saw how the lights from the passing cars cast patterns on the walls and ceiling. He could hear her muffled sniffs from the other room, and he hated himself for making her cry. But like in any relationship, they were equally to blame. This time he was in the wrong, like the saying goes "it's never ones fault that two fight".

He had been home late from work that evening, he had meant to call her, but he got so caught up in his work that he forgot to. She had been sitting on the living room couch reading a magazine when he walked into the apartment. Barely looking up, she informed him that she had placed his dinner in the fridge. Walking to the kitchen, he found the dining table set for two, and from behind he heard her voice:

"It's been one year, I thought we should celebrate, but I suppose you forgot," she sounded defeated, as if all the air had been sucked out of her.

"Honey, I..." he trailed off. _I'm_ _sorry_ seemed insufficient.

"You seem to be forgetting a lot lately," the statement was thrown out nonchalantly but he knew there was more to it than a simple observation.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he was starting to get angry

"You tell me!" she screamed in his face. "You're never home anymore, and when we've decided to do something you're always late or call to cancel." She dropped her voice to an accusing whisper: "you don't seem to care about me anymore"

He couldn't argue the evidence laid forward: he was often late, it was true that he had stopped bringing home flowers to her like he used to. He just thought it was supposed to be like that. It had happened that way with his wife, but she had always seemed to understand. Was it so wrong that he expected the same from _her_? But then again, he thought, his late wife did have a son – one that was not _his_.

He didn't want to fight with her, so he turned his back on her and sat down at the table. It was the wrong thing to do. The next instant, with one sweeping gesture of her arm, she had sent the plate and glass flying to the floor.

"I _am_ talking to you" she screamed at him. "Don't you _dare_ ignore me!"

Rising from the chair, he towered over her: "What do you want me to say? We are scientists. Do you want me to ignore the evidence?" he waited a nanosecond for her response before continuing "I can't do that! All I can do is promise that I will try harder in the future".

She stared at him in silence for a while and when she spoke, he wasn't sure he'd ever heard that tone of voice from _her_. "It sounds great when you say it, and I just might believe you if I hadn't been a trained interrogator." Her voice broke as tears pooled in her eyes and she wiped them away in frustration.

She bowed her head and took a deep breath and said, almost to herself, "Why do we do this to ourselves?" She raised her head. "What happened? We were such a great team, and now... maybe it's time we face it, together we're great friends, good crime fighters – Hell, Mac, we're great at a lot of things." She paused and then added softly, "Just not at love."

This time she was the one turning her back to him and walking away. He watched her retreating back and saw her entering the bathroom. After a minute he could hear a thud against the door and the sound of her sliding down against the door. A moment later he heard her begin to sob.

He walked into their bedroom and gathered his pillow and duvet and returned out to the living room. He made himself a temporary bed on the couch and lay down. A while later he heard her coming out of the bathroom.

He knew they would talk about this in the morning, and he knew – he hoped they would work it out this time at least. But in the back of his mind he started to wonder how many more times they would fight before one of them decided they'd had enough.


End file.
